Rehab

February 25

“Welcome to Cell Block D, perv,” a cheerful, yet serious female voice chirped out after John was left alone in his suite. “According to your files you HAVE been a naughty boy. You have freely chosen six months at Cell Block D over twenty-five years in the state penitentiary. Is this correct?”

“Yes.” John said.

“And why was that, perv?”

“What?”

“Are you truly interested in rehabilitation or do you just wish for a shorter sentence?”

“I want to be rehabilitated,” John said after an unconvincing pause.

‘Very well. I just wanted that for the record. There will be no appeal now.” It was the same cheerful, mechanical voice but the statement had an edge of ominousness to it. “I am to be your warden. You may call me ma’am. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

‘Your living quarters are fully automated. Meals will come regularly through the dumbwaiter.” The lights dimmed except for around a panel in the wall; to small for him to try and escape through but big enough to allow a tray of food. “When you are through you can dispose of your trash the same way.

“You are allowed two hours of modern entertainment a day.” The lights shifted to a video screen. “I will provide books for you to better yourself so you do not get bored otherwise.

“These both require electricity – as do the lights, the air conditioning, the water pump, the water heater… just about everything you will need to make your stay pleasant. Possibly all you need to survive your sentence.”

The lights shifted again. Now the spotlight was on a sex doll in the corner of the room.

‘This is your generator. You will be responsible for keeping it running. Ten to fif*** minutes every four hours ought to keep it running. If it stops, there is no restarting it.”

Ma’am was probably watching, but she could be watching any time. John unzipped thinking he could get used to this kind of imprisonment. He started going at it with the sex doll.

“Finally, your cell is fitted with chemical detectors. If they detect any trace of semen then the generator will shut down.”

“Wait! What?” John stopped pumping his hips.

“Rehabilitation for sex offenders like you is to make sex a punishment,” Ma’am informed him cheerfully. “Welcome to Cell Block D-nial.”